


Victor Henrikson Has A Weird Life

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Series: Rare Ships Creation Challenge [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse of Authority?, Cops, Handcuffs, Hunting, M/M, Police Chief Jody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: Dean gets arrested.  Victor cleans up that mess, then helps clean up the mess Dean got arrested for.





	Victor Henrikson Has A Weird Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rare Ship Creation Challenge Round 9: Colors
> 
> Prompt: Leather Jacket (#253529)

Victor looked up from the paperwork and groaned. He’d know that jacket anywhere. Dark grey, the color that black fades to after a jacket’s been worn for years, beat up, but very clearly loved. He wasn’t sure he’d recognize the guy without the jacket.

Okay, that was bullshit. There was no missing the pretty green eyes either, or the smirk he wore any time he was in the station. Didn’t matter what he’d been hauled in for, the guy had exactly three expressions. The smirk was the main one, worn for almost any situation. There was a cold, flat look that scared the shit out of any sensible cop because it made it clear that the guy would not hesitate if he thought you needed killing. That one came out any time someone was enough of a fool to mention his brother. Aaron Bass swore the guy was a psychopath. The third expression was one that Victor never wanted to see again. He’d seen it twice – once when he’d come to the station to identify his father’s body, and once when they’d brought him in on what they’d honestly believed to be his brother’s.   
As scary as the psychopath look was, this was worse. Victor had never seen a man look so broken, so dead inside.

Victor shoved the paperwork aside. “Nancy, let the chief know we got trouble.” Nancy nodded and walked toward Jody Mills’ office. Victor did not envy her that job. Chief Mills was going to be pissed.

Not that Victor’s job was any better. He got to go interrupt the interrogation. “Hey. Diana. Step out a minute?”

She did, with a warning to her prisoner to stay right where he was. “What’s up, Vic?”

“What’d you bring him in for?”

“Breaking and entering, trespassing, theft. Caught him stealing salt and matches.”

Victor shook his head. He’d been afraid of that. “Okay. You’re new here, Diana. And you’re probably going to go clutching your pearls and saying we can’t do this. The thing is? We can. And we do.”

“Do what?”

“You’re going to forget there was a break-in. Anything you confiscated from him, you’re going to tell me about so I can get it back to him. You’re going to enjoy the fact that you have no paperwork to do. You’ll hear this from Chief Mills, too. Meanwhile, I am going to go apologize to Winchester for the hassle, and escort him to the graveyard to make sure he gets there without further hassle.”

“Winchester? He said his name was Steve Tyler.”

“Aerosmith.”

“What?”

“He likes to screw with the cops by giving fake names. They’re nearly always from mullet rock bands or action movies. His name’s Dean Winchester, his brother’s name is Sam, and unless you want Mills on your ass for good, you don’t mess with them unless there’s someone hurt or dead. Even then, you should be careful.”

“You guys just ignore a criminal?”

“Two. You want to know more, ask Chief Mills.”

Speaking of the Chief, she stepped out of her office and shouted. “Ballard! Come see me. NOW!”

Victor waved and stepped into the interview room. He wasn’t a bit surprised that Dean had picked the lock on his cuffs. “Hey, Dean.”

“New cop? I like her. Very professional.” Dean got to his feet. “So, can I go make sure this thing ain’t beating Sammy to death?”

“Come on.” Victor rolled his eyes and hauled Dean out of the station, with a quick stop to grab the salt and Dean’s shotgun. Victor gave Dean a ride back to the store, where he got his Impala, and then followed the Impala out to the graveyard.

“About time you got… oh. Hi, Victor. Guess that explains it.” Sam shoved his hair out of his face. “Wanna help us dig, since you’re here?”

“Not really. Rather watch Dean get all sweaty and worked up.” Viktor took Dean’s shotgun. “I’ll watch out for ghosties, you two have fun.”

Once the ghost was toast, Dean dug out a round of beers. Sam took one without hesitation, and Dean offered one to Victor. “You still on duty?”

“Nope. The chief saw me leaving with you. My job for the next couple days is to keep you out of trouble.” Victor took the beer and cracked it open. “I dread the day she figures out that you stay out of trouble anyway unless something you can’t ignore comes up.”

“Oh, she knows. She used to be one of us, remember?”

“Still is, sometimes. Those vacations in Minnesota, she’s out there scaring up trouble with a cop up there.”

Dean chuckled. “Good for her. And here I was worried she’d get soft after the cushy promotion.”

Victor joined in as they reburied the bones. It would go faster, nothing would be coming to kill them, and he was starting to get a little tired. Once the last shovelful of dirt was in place and everything was stored in the trunk, Dean pulled out the keys. “Sammy, you got plans for the day?”

“Not really. Gonna get some sleep, maybe see if any of my friends are close and might wanna swing by for a visit.”

“I think Cas is in the area. Max may be too, can’t remember if he was coming this week or next. Here.” Dean tossed the keys to Sam. “Victor, since you’re supposed to be keeping me out of trouble…”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Want me to cuff you and read you your rights?”

“Oh god. Can you not wait one minute while I get out here before you go starting that?” Sam punched Victor’s shoulder. “You’re paying for the inevitable therapy.”

Once the Impala was out of sight, Dean held out his wrists. “Cuff me, officer. I’ve been bad.”

 

Victor would recognize that leather jacket anywhere. His favorite place to see it, though… definitely where it was now, on his bedroom floor, with its owner sprawled across his bed.


End file.
